City of Happiness
by Insomniac Frog
Summary: If happiness is what keeps the Grimm away and negativity is what attracts them, why bother fighting? All you have to do is make everyone happy. Forever.
1. A Day in the Life of

A crackle of static emerged from the glossy wood paneled radio: "Rise and shine citizen! It's another splendid day in Paradisum. The forecasts call for clear skies and warm temperatures. The time right now is seven o'clock." Winston practically sprang out of the lime green sheets. He landed smoothly into a pair of exceptionally blue slippers, and strolled out of the equally garishly colored bedroom into the bathroom. As he paused in between rinsing out his mouth with water, he spoke loudly, enunciating clearly.

"News" The speaker sitting on top of the medicine cabinet obliged with a crackle of static, and the jovial voice of a radio show host delivered the morning news.

"A recent study done by our journalists venturing outside Paradisum has found that this will be the sixth year in a row without any Grimm attacks" Winston smiled at this. He moved into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast. The speaker continued: "Quality of life is at an all time high, and a compilation of surveys done all around Remnant have indicated that citizens of Paradisum are the happiest in the world. That will be all for this morning's news. Have a wonderful rest of your day."

Winston bit into his toast, washing it down with a gulp of dark coffee. He licked the remaining jam off of his fingers and delicately dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. Satisfied, he placed his plate and beloved mug into the sink before plucking a weathered and cracked briefcase from off of the table. He slipped on his favorite pair of leather shoes, straightened his tie one last time, and headed out. Three minutes later, his door slammed open as he headed back in and snatched up a pair of black rimmed glasses from the table, having almost forgotten them.

Huffing from exertion, Winston raised his watch to his face, tie flapping in the wind.

 _7:50. I can make it!_ He thought to himself. _Just one more block to the bus stop. I really ought to find a way to remind myself of these things._

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he failed to notice the truck barreling down the road towards him as he rushed across the street.

~x~

Winston's eyelids groggily flickered open the tiniest amount. His mouth felt like it was full of searing hot marshmallows. His torso was riddled with sharp pains, and every time he breathed it was like inhaling shards of glass. Looking through the slits of his puffed up eyelids, he caught flashes of rows of lights. He had the sensation of moving rapidly. People in green scrubs and face masks surrounded him, a bag of clear liquid seemed to be attached to his arm, everything smelled like antiseptic and rubber. Winston drifted back into unconsciousness.

 _For it is in passing that we achieve immortality._ Winston frowned as he looked around at his new surroundings. _Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all._ He suddenly realized that he was flying perhaps several thousand feet in the air. Clouds were scattered below him. Rather than feel panic, however, Winston felt a sense of serene calmness. _Infinite and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee._ He blinked.

 _What do these words mean?_ He pondered this as the words had simply came to him. He thought about them for a while longer before he felt himself descending. The ground came up to meet him, moving faster and faster as he saw a city. He saw the outline of the hospital grow larger and larger. Suddenly, he was hovering over the battered body of a man in a hospital bed, the steady _beeps_ of an EKG filling the room. It was him.

 _Nonono I don't want to be him,_ he thought. _I don't want this_ he pleaded silently. As he felt himself being dragged into the body on the bed, pain filled his senses once more, and he drifted into a long, dreamless sleep.


	2. An Odd Occurrence

The steady beep assaulted his senses and amplified his headache. It felt like nails were being pounded into his skull. His mouth was dry like sand, and his joints ached. Winston groaned in pain as he attempted to lift his head up. Even this small action sent shoots of pain through his neck and back.

 _Where am I?_ He wondered. A nurse saw his predicament rushed over to him.

"Sir, you were struck by a truck. You've been in the hospital for a week now" She pushed him back into the sheets with a firm hand as he tried to get up once more. "You shouldn't move. You need to rest. Although your recovery has been phenomenal, you still need time" Memories rushed back to him of that morning when he was rushing to the bus stop. He sagged back into the pillows.

It was to be another week before Winston was released from the hospital. In the meantime, the truck driver, one Ryan Anderson, was given several hours under the effects of the new drug dubbed "Chronos" as punishment. The drug was said to speed up how quickly a person perceived the passage of time. In other words, it turned seconds into minutes, and minutes into hours. It was simply cheaper than prisons; rather than keeping people in cells for years at a time, criminals could simply _experience_ years of boredom and think on their actions. It was really more humane than actual prisons.

So they were told.

~x~

Winston was given another week off of work to rest in his own home; however, as he was preparing dinner one night, he noticed something odd.

As he was dicing a carrot, he felt the knife glance off of his knuckles. He immediately rushed to the medicine cabinet and extracted a box of bandages only to find that his finger was fine. Mildly bewildered, he went back to his cooking after deciding resolutely to not worry about it. Curiosity, however eventually took hold, and after finishing his meal, Winston found himself sitting at the table holding a knife over one hand.

"Alright" he breathed "I'm going to try this on my pinky first, and if it doesn't work I can just patch it up no problem".

He must have spent at least another minute attempting to convince himself to go through with the test. When he finally made up his mind, one thought resonated through his head as the knife flashed towards his pinky finger.

 _I'm an idiot I'm an idiot I'm an idiot I'm an idiot I'm an idiot…_

The kitchen knife sang through the air towards his pinky… and promptly bounced off of it. More accurately, it bounced off of what appeared to be a yellow membrane-like field, which flickered for a moment before blinking out of view. Fascinated, Winston slowly pushed down with all his strength on his pinky joint with the knife, only to find that the blade was repelled once more by this mysterious energy field.

"Amazing" he whispered to himself. He straightened up and looked around his apartment with a tinge of paranoia.

 _Should I tell anyone about this?_ He thought. A good citizen would report any anomalies to the authorities. _I'll think about it more tomorrow,_ he thought firmly, sliding the knife back into the wooden rack.

As he walked back to his room to retire for the day, the apartment seemed to flicker for just a moment. As if someone had turned down the contrast for just a millisecond, toning down the cheerful colors of the living room. Winston stopped in his tracks and frowned, blinking and rubbing his eyes. Everything appeared normal. Perturbed, he closed the bedroom door and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

 **To everyone who followed for RN-Jaune-sus, I'll probably be updating this one more frequently just because I have an actual plan for a story line whereas I just kinda come up with ideas for** **RN-Jaune-sus spontaneously.**


	3. All Knowing

A pair of cracked and wrinkled lips curled into a scowl. Knobby fingers curled into fists, paper thin skin stretching as the skeletal hands shook with rage. Outlined by the barest glimmer of light peering through the closed curtains, the shape of an old man sitting at a large desk piled with papers became clear. His decrepit appearance was at odds with the opulence of his clothing; a fine silk suit was draped over his frail, dying frame. Two flags flanked both sides of the massive chair.

"Anderson!" he barked, exposing a mouth full of rotting, yellowed teeth.

A younger man rushed into the room, head bowed before the old man, who was evidently in charge. "Yes my grace?" he inquired nervously. He already knew what this was about, and it showed in the way his voice shook.

Rheumy eyes seethed. "Winston is still alive" he said "And worse yet, I can't sense him anymore. It seems his aura was activated due to the near death experience"

"But sir I-"

"So not only did you fail to kill him, but you also managed to make him an even bigger threat than before"

Head hung in shame, Anderson fell into silence.

"The official news report we have given to the public is that you will suffer several hours under Chronos"

Anderson's already pale face turned even whiter as he blanched at the prospect of several hours under the drug.

"Fear not however. You will suffer no such fate" he said, as Anderson quietly sighed with relief. A sadistic grin twisted the old man's face. "No, for a failure of this magnitude, I will administer the punishment myself"

At this, Anderson dropped to his knees, head on the floor as he prostrated himself before the old man. "Please sir" he begged, hands clasped in prayer "Please I'll do anything I swear I won't fail you ag-" he screamed as needles of pure agony drove themselves into his skull. His skin felt as if it had erupted into flames as every nerve was assaulted with a scorching sensation. He writhed on the ground with his hands grasping at his head in a futile attempt to ease the pain.

"It does amuse me how you beg Anderson, but you brought this on yourself" he stated matter of factly. "You really have no one else to blame but yourself you know".

He continued to scream in agony, his vocal chords torn and ragged.

"That screaming is getting quite annoying" he mused, and with a flick of a finger, Anderson immediately fell unconscious, his limbs dropping like a marionette with its strings cut. Two guards wordlessly stepped inside, dragging his limp body away.

"I suppose he won't be too much of a threat for now" he said to himself "I'll deal with Winston when Anderson recovers" he decided.


End file.
